Moonlight
by Aulophobic Clarinetist
Summary: Roderich has another piano recital, and Matthew is the only one to show up. The two form a relationship and Matthew falls for him fast. After a tragedy, Roderich comes to realize just how important Matthew is in his life. AusCan. AU. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is a fic for Moon made of Ink, who wanted a multi-chaptered AusCan :D**

**I actually really like this pairing.**

**This will be 7 or 8 chapters, and most of them will be much longer than this (which is basically an intro) and a majority of the fic will be from Roderich's POV. I guess you could call it AU as well. **

**I don't own Hetalia. If I did, there would be more fluff.**

OOO

Matthew rifled through a small collection of suits in his closet. What was he supposed to wear to this sort of thing? 'This thing' was Roderich's piano recital. Well, a few people's recitals really, but Matthew only knew Roderich out of the list of performers. The Austrian had invited everyone a week ago and Matthew had accepted instantly; he had liked Roderich for quite some time and had always wanted to hear him play.

The recitals were being held in a large concert hall that Matthew hadn't been to in years.

He looked at his watch with a sigh and grabbed a simple black suit and tie. It would have to do.

Hurrying to the hall to get a good seat and maybe try to save some for the others Roderich had invited (if they could see Matthew saving them, that is), he found he was one of the first to arrive. They had just opened the house doors and the concert was due to start in twenty minutes.

Matthew walked down the center aisle and took a seat near the front and a little stage left, closer to where the pianists would be sitting while they played.

He looked around the audience, not recognizing anyone yet. He frowned. Where was everyone? The hall was starting to fill up, and when it came time for the concerts to start, Matthew found himself sitting alone with an empty seat next to him. He looked at his program; Roderich was going last. Maybe everyone wasn't showing up until then. Although the Austrian had requested that they stay for everyone's performance.

The first few recitals went very well and Matthew clapped politely for each one. When it was Roderich's turn, the Austrian stepped out on stage and took his customary bow. His eyes swept over the audience, looking almost disappointed, but then his gaze fell on Matthew and it softened a bit, the corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly at Matthew's smile. He took his seat on the piano bench and began to play.

He was playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The first movement almost brought Matthew to tears as Roderich beautifully crafted the melody, making it flow with emotions. The second movement was appropriately bouncy, yet the way Roderich performed it made the piece retain a melancholy reflection of the first movement. When it came time for the third movement, Matthew couldn't help but stare in amazement. He had never heard someone play so quickly and perfectly.

When Roderich finished, Matthew was one of the first to rise from his seat for his standing ovation. Roderich stood to take his bows and his eyes met Matthew's again, who was clapping furiously. His gaze lingered on him the longest, before turning and leaving the stage.

Matthew followed the crowd out into the atrium and saw everyone was gathering into groups of family and friends of the performers. He wondered which group was Roderich's. He hesitated; he wanted to congratulate the Austrian but he didn't like standing around awkwardly by himself. He wondered if Roderich would even see him in the crowded room. He decided to stand by a column halfway between the doors and the concert hall.

OOO

Roderich packed his things and walked out of the backstage hallway into the atrium, pushing the door open with his head down, trying to leave quickly. He reached the exit doors and paused to turn around, looking sadly at all the groups that came to support their friend or relative. He was about to turn back around and leave when his eyes locked with a violet pair across the room.

He made his way over to Matthew, who was standing alone, and smiling at him softly. "You came," Roderich said, still surprised the Canadian was there, _and stayed _he added in his mind.

"Of course I did. Roderich, that was amazing! Thank you for inviting me," Matthew said quietly.

"Thank you. And thank you for coming as well."

"I've never heard the first movement of the Sonata played so beautifully before, and the second was amazing, especially how you made it more continuous with the first, and the third movement must have taken ages to learn!" Roderich felt himself turning faintly pink at the sudden praise. He wasn't exactly used to it from people he knew, and it seemed the Canadian actually had an appreciation for classical music.

"Oh. Sorry, I'm rambling," Matthew shook his head slightly. "You probably get that a lot. Well, thanks again for inviting me, I loved it. I don't want to keep you from the rest of your friends."

Roderich stared at him for a moment, the Canadian looking more and more nervous under his scrutiny. "You're the only one that came," he said finally.

"Really?" Matthew looked around at the dispersing groups. "Why?"

Roderich just sighed in response. He couldn't explain it. It just always happened like this. Well, not like this exactly, usually no one was there.

"Would you...would you like to go get some coffee...or something?" Roderich was taken aback at the Canadian's question. Nothing happened like this either. He considered it for a moment. It couldn't hurt, and it would certainly be less boring than sitting at home alone. If anything, Matthew seemed well-versed enough in music to have a decent conversation.

He noticed Matthew's expression falling slightly at his lengthy pause and he broke their eye contact, looking nervously at the floor. "Um...n-"

"Sure," he replied, interrupting whatever the Canadian was going to say to attempt to take back his request, and Matthew's face lit up.

OOO

**Thanks for reading everyone! Let me know what you think :)**

**I'll be out of town without internet for 2 weeks, but I'll reply to everything and post chapter 2 as soon as I get back!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Thanks for all the alerts/faves/reviews! I was totally not expecting this many, it was such a nice surprise to come home to :) Here's the next chapter! This will be about the average length of the rest of them.**

**OOO**

The walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away was mostly in silence, the way Roderich preferred most of his conversations to be. There was a surprising amount of people there for so late at night, but after getting their coffees (for which Matthew had insisted on paying for) they found a small table easily enough.

"Are you ok?" Matthew said after a moment.

"I- what?" was Roderich's intelligent reply. But really, who starts a conversation like that? Especially after inviting you out for coffee.

Matthew looked back down at his coffee cup he had clutched between both hands, slightly dwarfing the steaming vessel. Roderich found himself staring at Matthew's fingers. They were long, pale, slender, a bit calloused, but nice. He'd definitely have the span to play some of Liszt's more difficult pieces, a trait which Roderich was slightly envious of. It took him ages to get the spacing right.

"Y-you just...um..." the Canadian began, drawing Roderich's attention back up, "you seemed sad before. When you said I was the only one that came."

He seemed sad? Really? He usually kept such a tight reign on his emotions, carefully masking them into indifferent expressions, only truly expressing his feelings through music. Was his facade slipping?

"And so you asked me to get coffee with you." It wasn't exactly a question, but it still required an answer, and it wasn't admitting that he had, in fact, felt sad earlier that evening. Well, not _sad_ precisely. More...disappointed. Forgotten. Again.

"Yes. I-well...yes." Matthew didn't seem to be able to come up with an appropriate explanation for his actions. Roderich was trying to figure him out, he really was, but there was just something _different _about the Canadian that he didn't see in most people.

"Why?" he asked after a moment.

Matthew's eyes met his again and he was a bit taken aback at the innocence he saw in the violet orbs. "You looked like you could use the company and...and I like talking to you." He paused, probably looking for a reaction, which Roderich did not give. "Were you? Sad, earlier I mean? I think I would be...if I had invited everyone and no one came. But they probably wouldn't."

"You came." Roderich replied, still choosing not to answer the question or comment on Matthew's assumed absence of friends.

Matthew just smiled faintly and took another sip of his coffee. "You're still avoiding the question."

"Well I..." Damn. He caught him. "I suppose I was more disappointed, really."

"Was?"

"Then I saw you and then you bought me coffee. I can't be sad about that." That was a decent enough reason, was it not? How could he possibly begin to explain the sudden emotional change of sadness to happiness that he felt when he saw someone had finally come to one of his performances? He had always made sure seem aloof enough to avoid questions, and the praise he got while practicing was nice, but the feeling he got when someone actually came to his recital for the sole purpose of seeing him play was an indescribably happy one. He wasn't used to this.

Matthew's gaze was on him again and unmoving. This time Roderich felt himself getting slightly nervous. Not that it showed, of course. It just seemed like the Canadian was looking right past his carefully composed facade.

"Why did you come? It's not that I don't appreciate it, you have no idea how much I do, I just don't understand why. Why now?"

Matthew shrugged, able to make the usually sloppy gesture look like an almost elegant movement. "I've always wanted to see you perform. Hear you play. This was the first time you invited me."

So he was keeping his answers just as vague, was he? Roderich was intrigued. He stared at Matthew carefully; the Canadian was turning pinker and pinker the longer he stared. He had thought he was getting less nervous, but maybe not. Somehow he couldn't figure him out nearly as completely as Matthew seemed to understand him.

"Alright, fine," he began. "Yes, I was disappointed earlier. I don't like being forgotten, but no one has come to my recitals before when I've invited them, and you think I'd be used to it, but I'm not. And then tonight you were there and it made me happy, I suppose, and well, it's different, and I liked it. And then you asked me to coffee, also different, and I also think I like it." Roderich explained quickly and quietly, not used to giving so much of his in-depth personal feelings, but he was becoming desperate to find out more behind Matthew's reasoning.

Matthew blinked at him knowingly and it was almost unnerving. "And," Roderich continued, "then you somehow seem to just understand everything. How?"

"I-I like classical music." Matthew offered in explanation. Roderich was getting exasperated. That wasn't nearly good enough reasoning, and it wasn't fair; he'd just explained his feelings. Matthew bit at his lip nervously. "You're your music, and it...it just makes sense, you know? Maybe I'll be able to explain it better someday. Like do you ever find a piece that's absolutely perfect right when you need it?"

Now that was something Roderich could understand better. "Every day," he replied honestly. "Why haven't we really talked before?"

Matthew just gave a smile in response, blush returning to his cheeks.

"I'm practicing in the concert hall tomorrow for most of the day and...and I'd be delighted if you'd stop by."

Matthew's smile grew and his cheeks darkened a bit as he looked down at his empty coffee cup. He felt his heart rate increase. That request had just slipped out. What if he was being too presumptuous or assuming things or-

"I'd like that," he whispered.

OOO

When Matthew arrived the next day at the concert hall, Roderich had already been playing for a couple of hours. He didn't notice the quiet Canadian enter the hall almost silently and stand by the stage until he got to the end of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition and an almost silent "hi" made him look up.

Matthew was standing by the first row looking a bit nervous. "Oh! Matthew! When did you get here?"

"About halfway through the Tuileries, but I didn't want to stop you. The Bydlo was beautiful, but the Bogatyr Gates is always my favorite. It's just so powerful, you know? Especially the quieter parts, and how it keeps building."

Roderich was shocked, to say the least, but none of it showed of course, he was careful of that. Not only did Matthew have an appreciation for classical music, but he seemed to identify it and actually know things about many pieces as well. It was a nice change from his normal conversations with the other personified nations.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come."

"Well...you invited me." Matthew was beginning to look nervous again. He had been so excited a moment ago.

"Yes, but that doesn't always mean anything. But I'm very pleased you're here, it's...very polite of you."

"As much as I like to fulfill the Canadian stereotype, I really just wanted to hear you play again."

Roderich's lip twitched up into an almost smile, the expression feeling foreign on his face. "Well, that can be arranged." Matthew laughed quietly and it was like a beautiful musically unattainable melody. "Come up here?" the Austrian asked.

Matthew froze. "A-am I allowed?" he looked at the stage anxiously.

"Certainly." The Canadian walked over to the small set of stairs on the far left, making his way onto the ornate stage with nearly silent footsteps.

"Sit." he said, scooting over a bit on the piano bench.

"I won't be in the way?"

"No."

Matthew hesitated, then sat where Roderich requested. Roderich's fingers stretched over the keys and he began to play, working through the melodies and harmonies with a flawless movement of fingers flowing over keys and notes soaring through bars.

He managed to play through an entire suite with the Canadian sitting silently beside him. No one really seemed to give his music that much of a thought before. Usually most people would interrupt or not give him that much of their time. But Matthew wasn't most people, Roderich was coming to realize. He picked up the next bundle of sheet music and turned to Matthew in silent question. He received a smile and slight nod in response.

Roderich played through the first few movements as he had the suite earlier, but as he was approaching the end, he felt his thoughts become more and more directed at Matthew. His eyes shifted over to the Canadian in his peripheral vision as he continued to play, looking for a reaction and observing his silent guest.

After a moment, he noticed that Matthew's eyes seemed to be following along with the sheet music spread across the staff of the piano.

He stopped suddenly. "Do you play?" He found himself hopeful; it was odd.

"Um..." Matthew looked startled at the question and abrupt stopping of music. "Well, I used to. Not piano much, but a couple of instruments. Back in school. French horn mostly. But I wasn't that good. My dynamics were awful, I couldn't get much louder than a mezzopiano."

"Do you want to try?" Roderich motioned at the keys. This spontaneity was new to him.

"I...I'll be absolutely terrible at it, but sure. Why not, eh?" Matthew hesitantly set his hands on the right keys for the opening chords of the last movement and softly began to play. It was well under tempo and had almost no range in dynamics, but it seemed the Canadian was actually a decent musician. He either knew the piece, or was quite able in his sight reading abilities.

"Not bad." Roderich murmured when Matthew carefully made his way through some accidentals. "It'd be a bit easier if...may I?" he held his hand over Matthew's.

Matthew nodded and Roderich lightly put his hand atop the Canadian's, ignoring the twitch from the other man and the tingly feeling he got in his own and gently played the notes by pushing Matthew's fingers below his, even though it was for the opposite hand.

"See?" Matthew nodded again, and Roderich took note of the blush forming on the Canadian's cheeks. "And you really haven't been playing in a while?"

"No. I...I'm decent enough at reading the music, I guess, but I can never seem to get it out well enough," he shook his head slightly. Roderich knew the feeling, but he always managed to work through it, no matter how many sleepless nights it required. "And I was never really that fond of bass clef."

Without intending to, Roderich let out a small laugh, shocking himself. "Pity, you have nice hands. I-I mean for piano." What was this fumbling over words nonsense? He decided to just be quiet in fear of doing it again, and ran a thumb across the back of Matthew's knuckles. There was a slight intake of breath from the man next to him, but neither pulled away. He felt Matthew's gaze on him, burning into him, but he kept his own on their hands. He wasn't thinking as much as normal, analyzing everything, or keeping his mask in check, he realized as he slowly slid his fingers under Matthew's palm and his thumb repeated it's movement.

"Matthew, my boss gave me tickets to a gala opening at the art museum on Saturday, and I'd be honored if you'd accompany me. And maybe for dinner beforehand as well?" he asked quietly.

_Manners, Roderich_ he reminded himself, and carefully changed the position of their hands to hold Matthew's fingers in his, lifting the Canadian's hand to ghost a kiss over his knuckles. Thank God he had remembered to be a gentleman. It wouldn't do to act unaccordingly, especially with delicate matters such as this.

He let his eyes move up to meet Matthew's, which were staring back searchingly. He saw Matthew's cheeks darken more, bringing out the Canadian's violet eyes in a beautiful way. "I'd love to," he replied finally and Roderich let a small smile grace his lips, which was returned readily.

He stood up and helped Matthew to his feet, keeping their hands together. It wasn't quite proper, but Roderich couldn't bring himself to care. Reaching the doors, he held one open allowing Matthew to step first into the night.

"I'll see you Saturday then?" Matthew asked quietly.

"Saturday." Roderich confirmed, equally as quiet. "Until then," he brought Matthew's hand back up, letting his lips linger a bit longer than the fist time as the brush of them across Matthew's knuckles also held a bit more pressure. "Auf Weidersehen."

He smiled again as the Canadian replied with his goodbye, turning to return home. What was getting into him today? His lips refused to return to their stoic line and he didn't see, but Matthew couldn't keep the almost giddy smile off his face.

OOO

By the time Matthew was fumbling with the keys to his apartment, he still had a smile on his face. Roderich had asked him out. If he was unsure before, now he was certain. And the Austrian had kissed his hand. Twice. Yeah, he wasn't a girl, but it was so unexpectedly nice and so..._Roderich_ that Matthew loved it. He was sure his face could have melted all the glaciers in Canada at the time. He pushed open the heavy door to be greeted with bright lights and loud noises coming from his TV. Alfred must be home.

"Hey, Alfred! You're back early." Alfred had been away from their shared apartment for a conference and wasn't supposed to be getting back until the next day. Matthew sighed as his brother didn't look up from his video games. "Alfred!" he tried again and the American's eyes were peeled away from his game.

"Mattie! Wassup, bro?" Alfred asked, eyes flicking back to his game every few seconds.

"You're back early," he said again. It's not that he didn't want Alfred to be back home, he loved it when his brother was around. It's just that the American's stuff had already taken over the shared living room in the few hours he'd been home.

"Yeah. Conference ended early. Shit!" Alfred sighed and set down his controller as his game avatar blew up and started to get devoured by alien zombies.

"What were you doing out so late?" A smile quirked at Matthew's lips before he could stop it and Alfred got an annoyingly smug look on his face. "You look happy. Was my little bro actually out having fun? It must be a sign of the apocalypse!" Alfred mocked dramatically.

"None of your business, you hoser!" But Matthew couldn't keep any convincing venom in his voice.

"Whatever, dude. You know I'll get it out of you eventually. Make me a sandwich?" Alfred demanded more than asked as he restarted his game. Matthew rolled his eyes but walked into their kitchen nonetheless. He was going to make one for himself anyways.

"Check it out, yo!" Alfred announced as Matthew came back into the living room with two plates of their food. "I just blew up like twenty zombies at once!"

"Mhmm." Matthew sat on the couch next to him. "Here," he held out the plate with the larger sandwich in front of Alfred, who paused the game.

"Thanks, bro!" He took an incredibly large bite. "You're still suspiciously happy," he mumbled through his chewing. "Oh my god, Mattie, did you go _out_ out while I was gone? Did you finally take my advice and get laid?"

"I-"

"Oh my god you did! _Matthew_. Man. I never would have expected that from you! Awesome! Who was it, where'd you go, who topped, _details,_" Alfred prompted excitedly.

"No! I didn't- J-just because you're always going off to do God knows what with Arthur all the time doesn't mean that I- _Maple,_ Alfred! I just kind of...maybe...went out...with someone..." Matthew trailed off, getting quieter and quieter as he went on, feeling the hole he was digging himself into slowly getting deeper as his face was turning redder and redder.

"Chillax, bro, that's totally cool." Alfred shoved the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and reached for the other half of Matthew's. "So, you got a boyfriend now or what?"

"Well, I..." Matthew paused, unsure of what to say exactly, and pushed his plate a few inches towards his brother. Alfred never seemed to like Roderich much; Matthew wasn't sure how he felt about telling him so soon.

"Aww, dude, you're blushing!" Alfred cooed and nudged Matthew's shoulder with his own. "You're so adorably innocent."

Matthew made a sort of noncommittal noise.

"Who's the lucky guy making you this happy? I should send him a cake. It's a nice change from your usual silent moping around the apartment." Alfred grinned at him.

"I don't mope!" Matthew said indignantly and shoved Alfred's shoulder. "And I don't think Roderich would like your cakes much, they're too ridiculous."

"Roderich?" His brother's face turned serious for a moment before bursting into laughter. Maple. He hadn't meant to let him know that way. "Oh my god Mattie, you almost had me fooled for a second there! You and the prissy aristocratic Austrian? Ha! No one would go out with him. I don't think anyone'd measure up to his standards! That's hilar-" he stopped short at the upset look on Matthew's face. "Oh my god you're serious," his voice dropped to a normal decibel level as he spoke in awe.

"Apparently I'm no one then." Matthew said quietly, trying to keep his composure and not show how much the teasing hurt.

"Shit, dude, I didn't mean-"

"I knew you'd make fun of me. Just like you always make fun of Roderich whenever you have meetings with him," Matthew's voice wavered as he took their plates to the kitchen and made his way to his bedroom, not wanting to sit with Alfred anymore. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell you; you just think he's stuck up a-and-"

"Mattie. _Matthew._ I'm sorry."

"Just finish your game, Alfred. I'll see you in the morning," he whispered.

"No, I'm sorry, if you wanted to talk about-"

"Goodnight, Alfred." Matthew shut his door.

The Canadian sighed as he turned from his door to get ready for bed. It wasn't as if he didn't want Alfred to know, he didn't want to keep all sorts of secrets from his brother, but he knew Al wouldn't be as accepting as he wanted. He loved his brother, but sometimes he wished the American wasn't so quick to judge people.

Alfred would come around though. He always did when Matthew was concerned. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, though, since Roderich was coming by for their date on Saturday. A smile crept it's way back onto Matthew's lips at the thought. A date. With Roderich. How long had he been waiting for this? Sure, it was terrifying getting up the nerve to ask him for coffee, but it was completely worth it. But friends could do that. It was Roderich who let him sit by him and play his piano, Roderich who asked him to go to the museum, Roderich who kissed his hand. _Twice._

Matthew buried his face in his pillow. If that hadn't been showing, well, romantic interests, what was? They were going on a real date on Saturday, and Alfred would accept it soon. Everything would be perfect right?

A knock on his door awakened the sleeping Canadian. That was one benefit of working from home: no alarm clock. He only had to leave for meetings with other countries and his boss. He usually woke up pretty early naturally though. A groggy glance at his clock told him it was approaching eight. Alfred must be on his way to work. He worked more closely with his boss than Matthew did, and his office was downtown. He'd been spending a lot of time there because of the economy.

Matthew shuffled towards his door in his sleepy state and opened it to find no one there. Frowning, he looked around for Alfred and heard the keys locking their front door. He was confused until the warm smell of pancakes slowly wafted up to his nose. He looked down and say a plate of them in his doorway. They weren't exactly round, but they looked tasty enough. 'Sorry' was sloppily spelled out in maple syrup across the top cake.

He smiled and picked them up, taking the plate back into his room to sit on his bed. He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and texted a quick 'Thanks, Al' to his brother. A few seconds later he received a ':)' in reply.

When he was finished, he got up to put his plate and fork in the kitchen, then he made his way into his bathroom to get ready for the day. Though he worked from home in the apartment's third bedroom he'd turned into an office, he still wanted to get dressed and everything. He knew if Alfred was given the chance, he'd work in his pajamas. But the Canadian didn't mind dressing decently. What if his boss called or someone came by? It wouldn't do to be in sweatpants. And he just felt more professional and responsible this way, even if he was just wearing a nice shirt and jeans.

He managed to finish everything he had to do by early afternoon, and he shut his laptop with a sense of accomplishment. Looking around his organized office to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, his eyes fell on the living room just outside his door. It was still a mess. With a sigh, he walked into it and began straightening up. Roderich would be there tomorrow night, after all. He cleaned every time someone was coming by to meet with him or Alfred whenever they weren't meeting at the other nation's residence or with their bosses, and sure, Roderich had been over a few times, but it was different now.

He started with Alfred's suitcase which had practically exploded next to the couch. Throwing most of the contents into the washing machine, he wheeled the remainder of the luggage into the American's room and shut the door. Maybe he could get Alfred to tidy up a bit, but it was a safer bet to just confine the mess to his room and close it off.

He spent the next couple hours organizing games and movies. Once he'd made sure they were all in the right cases, he started to put them in alphabetical order, a task which took longer than he'd thought. Good thing he had started early then. He started folding Alfred's laundry and threw the blankets from the couches into the wash.

By the time Alfred came home, bringing take out (much to Matthew's delight), he'd made the living room and kitchen almost spotless.

"Wow, Mattie. Busy day?" Alfred joked, setting the boxes of food on their small table.

"Well, Roderich's coming by tomorrow night. We're going to dinner and the museum. I wanted things to be clean." Matthew explained, carefully watching his brother's face for a reaction.

"Cool. He's been here before though."

"Yeah, but it's different now." Matthew mumbled.

" 'course it is, bro. And really, dude. Sorry about before. If you wanna date him, that's your business. I don't get it, but hey, if he makes you happy, great. I'm happy for you."

Matthew smiled. "Thanks, Al. And try not to destroy the apartment by tomorrow."

"Scout's honor." Alfred held up the appropriate fingers and looked at the Canadian seriously. "The museum though? That's so...tame. When we started dating, I took Artie out to a club and then we got a hotel and-"

"Don't want to hear it!"

"-he was fucking insatiable! It was awesome. Though I think we got a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors when I made him-"

"Maple! Stop!" Matthew interrupted, covering his ears, and Alfred just laughed.

"So innocent, dude." Alfred shook his head and stole a bite of Matthew's chicken. "But seriously, I hope y'all have a good time and all that. Even if you're just going to a museum."

Matthew smiled warily and snuck a noodle off Alfred's plate. They _would _have a good time. Even if nothing more happened than Roderich kissing his hand.

OOO

A date. A real date. He had asked Matthew on an actual date. Verdammt, he wasn't ready for this. The last time he'd been out on a date, if it could be called that, was years ago. And that had been with Elizaveta. But this time he would have to initiate things. After all, he did ask Matthew to accompany him, not the other way around. And that was how dates worked, right? Roderich sighed. What was the proper protocol for this? He only had a couple more hours to figure it out.

He knew he had to be a proper gentleman though. He shouldn't have trouble with that, but he had been way too forward in asking him out. A nice dinner with Matthew at a nice restaurant, and then arriving at the gala fashionably late around the time most of the guests would be getting there. He could handle that; he had been an aristocrat after all. And, as the perfect gentleman, he would pick Matthew up right on time and walk him home afterwards of course.

But maybe he wasn't ready yet. Maybe he had tried to be social too soon. Maybe he would just be better off alone again, with only his music to keep him company. Did he have enough time to convince his boss not to make him go? Could he make up an excuse to stay home with his music? Matthew wouldn't mind, right?

But no. He had asked. It would be rude. He would have to follow through with it. He actually wanted to follow through with it, and it shocked him. Was he just afraid? Did Matthew really want this? The look on his face had been so hopeful and happy. But were those real emotions? Did most people show their real emotions so blatantly? Maybe he could get Matthew to play for him, then he could try to understand. The stress of this was not something he was prepared for. If only he had a few more hours to play out his feelings on his beloved piano.

Nonsense. He could do this.

Roderich willed all of the anxious thoughts to leave his head as he picked out a nicely cut black suit from his extensive collection and headed to his bathroom to take a shower.

By the time he was ready and knocking on the Canadian and American's door, he'd had two mild panic attacks and almost reconsidered once.

"Alfred! Turn it down! Get your feet off the table!" he heard a quiet muffled voice command from somewhere near the apartment door after he knocked.

"Chillax, bro!" came the American's louder reply.

"Alfred!" he heard, somewhere further from the door.

"...hi!" the door opened to reveal a slightly flustered and breathless Matthew.

He had expected Matthew to be ready when he answered the door. He had been sure Alfred would be there. He assumed the American would be annoying and Matthew would get a bit flustered and embarrassed. He was correct on all three assumptions. What he hadn't counted on was Matthew looking so devastatingly handsome in his suit. Maybe this was going to be harder than he thought.

He had done something with his hair that tamed the waves a bit, and the dark eggplant color of his shirt along with the charcoal vest brightened his amethyst eyes. Eyes that were staring at him expectantly. Verdammt he was supposed to say something, wasn't he? What had Matthew said? Oh-

"Hello," he cleared his throat nervously. "You look very nice tonight, Matthew."

He received a light blush in reply. Well, that was good, right? "Thank you," the Canadian said quietly. "You look...amazing." It was Roderich's turn to blush, as Matthew's hesitation in finding the correct words gave them more conviction.

"Thank you. Um..." he trailed off. Oh, well that was dignified. Great. And his mind was becoming sarcastic. Even better.

"Hey, Roddy!" Alfred said loudly as he bounded over and Roderich winced at the nickname.

"Hello, Alfred. How are you?"

"Awesome!"

"Right."

Matthew stared at his brother almost in fear of what he might say or do. "Um..."

"You think he's hot," Alfred nodded in Matthew's general direction while maintaining eye contact with Roderich, "you think he's sexy," he repeated the motion, but in reverse. "Now go to dinner and your boring museum and try to have fun."

"Alfred!"

"Whaaat? It's true! Oh, and Mattie, you might want to stay out for a while. Artie's coming over later and, well, I don't want to scar either of your virgin ears, but we haven't seen each other since before the conference if you know what I mean."

The shyer pair both turned a bit red and Matthew looked slightly disgusted.

Virgin ears. Roderich scoffed mentally. He wasn't a prude! It's not like he was inexperienced, he had been with Gilbert, after all. But it had been a while since, well, anything...and then again, he really didn't want to hear any of what Alfred could tell them.

Roderich cleared his throat again. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Bye Alfred. See you...later..." Matthew shuddered.

"Bye!"

Roderich nodded his goodbye at Alfred.

As they walked to the restaurant, his knuckles brushed against the Canadian's and he felt Matthew's fingers twitch slightly.

It was so different than when he had been with Gilbert, or Elizaveta for that matter. Matthew was much meeker. Everything about this was so...innocent. And it's what Roderich wanted. With Gilbert it had been much too fast for his inexperience. It was barely even dating. And it had been so long ago. He was afraid to fall again, to love or trust again. Because it had only ever ended in heartbreak. But maybe things could be different with Matthew. They already were, weren't they? Maybe he could learn to love again. But he had to make sure things didn't go wrong or too fast or anything.

He glanced over out of the corner of his eye but it seemed Matthew was deliberately not looking at him. Sure he had held Matthew's hand in the concert hall. Kissed it even. But this was different, was it not?

Hesitantly, he laced their fingers together and was relieved when he saw a smile playing at Matthew's lips.

Dinner went well enough and Roderich had made sure to pay for both of their meals like a proper gentleman. It was nice learning more about each other besides what they had learned from business conversations and small talk.

The museum was only across the street, but Roderich was pleased when Matthew took his hand again.

He held open the door for Matthew and they stepped into the gala. He looked around in horror. Modern art. His boss hadn't told him it would be modern art. Oh how he despised the lack of creativity and the sheer randomness of the so-called art. He never could quite appreciate it. And to make things worse, there was horrid soft jazz music being played through mediocre speakers.

"Roderich? Are you ok?" Matthew looked concerned. Apparently he'd stopped walking after he'd given the tickets to the doorman and was just standing in the entrance way.

"What? Yes I'm fine." It would take most of his willpower to keep himself calm and not become snippy. But he needed to; none of this was Matthew's fault.

Matthew looked at him a moment. "Alright."

They walked around the perimeter looking at the paintings, if they could be called that, just a blob on a blank canvas really. Oh how he missed art that actually took time. Like Italy's Renaissance. That had been a beautiful time. What happened to that kind of art?

After they had finished with the paintings, they moved on to the sculptures. The first looked like someone had taken a chunk out of a block of marble. According to the artist's description it was supposed to represent internal anguish and freedom from your fears. Roderich didn't see it. Then there was one that was either a small dinosaur or a demonic fish, he couldn't tell. Though it looked a bit like a cabbage from one side. They paused by a sculpture that looked like the entirety of someone's kitchen utensils melted together. There was no description.

Matthew's expression was one of amused confusion.

"Well?" Roderich prompted.

"Well." his tone had an air of confirmation.

"What do you think?"

"It's...interesting."

"Interesting as in you actually like it, or interesting as in you're just saying that to be polite and you actually would rather be anywhere else?" Roderich hoped it was the latter.

"...would you be upset if I said the second one? I'm sorry. It's not you, I swear, I just don't really get it." He gestured at the art.

"Oh thank god, I thought it was just me."

Matthew smiled. "It kind of looks like a kitchen experiment gone wrong, eh?"

Roderich laughed. Again. What was this laughing business and why was it happening so often with Matthew? "Do you want to get out of here...o-or something? I don't mean to be presumptuous. But since we're both bored with this we could do something else. Unless you'd rather go home."

"No I'd much rather do something else. Maybe I wouldn't rather be _anywhere _else after all," he grimaced.

They successfully snuck out the side door and decided to just walk around together for a bit, continuing the easy conversation pattern they'd started at dinner.

"Hey, do you want some ice cream?" Matthew said suddenly as they walked by a small ice cream parlor. "My treat since you wouldn't let me pay for dinner."

"Well...I suppose. Maybe a small scoop of vanilla." He didn't want to overstep or anything.

"Mhmm. Vanilla. I'll be right back."

After a few moments, Matthew emerged from the shop with two cones of ice cream, neither of which were exactly small. "Spontaneity!" he said, holding out a cone. It was dark out and he couldn't really see the color of the ice cream, but he could tell that it obviously wasn't vanilla.

"...I'm not spontaneous." he replied, but he took the proffered cone anyway.

"Neither am I, really. But it can be good sometimes I guess."

Roderich warily stuck out his tongue and licked the edge of the ice cream. Triple chocolate fudge. His favorite, if he ever bought himself ice cream. "You know I like chocolate?"

"Please. Everyone _likes _chocolate. You love it. It's obvious."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. You're definitely an intense chocolate person."

"And what makes you so sure of that?"

"If there's ever dessert at the world meetings, you get something with chocolate. And it would suit you."

"Hmm..." Roderich replied. Matthew was certainly observant. He didn't really know what he meant by 'it would suit you' though. "And so what kind of ice cream did you get?"

"Vanilla," he replied and licked the cone for emphasis.

"What?"

"It's my favorite," he explained. "Also so we could trade if I was wrong and you didn't like yours."

"...and you like chocolate too?"

"Mmm. Sometimes. I usually get a different flavor of ice cream whenever I buy some."

"I thought you weren't spontaneous."

"Ice cream is the exception." Matthew said seriously.

"I see."

Matthew was certainly a lot more interesting than Roderich had thought. And he really liked that the Canadian was able to seemingly understand him well enough without him having to spell it out. Matthew was just the right mix of niceness and...well, he couldn't quite think of words to describe his feelings. But it had been one of the best nights he'd had in a long time, and there'd been no pianos involved whatsoever.

After they were beginning to grow tired, Roderich walked Matthew back to his apartment.

"I had a great time tonight." Matthew almost whispered when they reached his door. It seemed his shyness had returned full force.

"As did I," Roderich replied truthfully. He was already looking forward to spending more time with Matthew. He suddenly felt silly for worrying so much earlier. Everything had gone so perfectly, even the imperfect things. And this was the happiest he'd felt in a long time.

He wanted to kiss him. Oh god how he wanted to kiss him. The way Matthew was looking up at him with those beautiful dark violet eyes framed with long lashes...no. He needed to stop. It would be too much too fast, wouldn't it? But if he didn't initiate things, would Matthew? The Canadian was certainly not Elizaveta or Gilbert. He was so unsure about leading these things. Better wait until he was absolutely sure Matthew reciprocated the feelings.

But his slightly chapped, soft looking pink lips were right there and just barely parted so invitingly, and there was an endearing dusting of blush crossing over his cheeks, and- _stop it, Roderich! Be a gentleman. Be a gentleman. Be a gentlem- Oh screw it._ He cupped Matthew's cheek with his hand that wasn't holding the Canadian's own and pulled him slightly closer, kissing him firmly and gently on the lips. He felt Matthew freeze for a moment before melting into the kiss.

"Goodnight, Matthew," he said quietly and ghosted another kiss across the back of Matthew's hand.

OOO

Matthew shut the door behind him and could do nothing but lean against it. He brought his hand up to his smiling lips and gently brushed his fingertips against them. Roderich kissed him. He _kissed _him. It was the singularly most fantastic and beautiful moment in Matthew's entire life.

OOO

**Thanks for reading! Reviews make me happy!**

**Also would anyone be highly opposed to me changing the rating to M? -blushes- I have insistent plot bunnies nibbling at my brain...**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so sorry it's been 2 months! I promise I won't leave this story for that long ever again!**

**If anyone is wondering about Matthew's song, it's "If I Had a Million Dollars" by the Bare Naked Ladies. **

**And um...this is going to be rated M now...  
**

It had been a week since the kiss and Matthew was still smiling about it. Though he was a little sad that there hadn't been another after either of the dinners they'd had together that week. And he could see the hesitation in the Austrian's eyes and the indecisive longing in the slight shift in his expression. What was Roderich so afraid of?

He sighed and thought back on the kiss with a smile. Maybe he could just kiss Roderich next time instead? Why was Roderich so nervous? What if he was misreading into things? His train of thought was cut off when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey bro, it's me!" a loud voice announced.

"Oh, hi Alfred. What's up?"

"Me and Arthur and a bunch of other people are going to the bar tonight, it's one of our monthiversaries, not that I keep track or whatever. But anyway, I thought I'd invite you even thought you never come. I don't know why you never come, it's awesome."

"Arthur and I."

"Huh?"

"It's...oh, nevermind. I never come because I always end up having to deal with you in your inebriated state. You're hard enough to handle, but Arthur too? I know how he gets."

"Haha yeah, but this time I'm not really drinking. I promised Artie I'd be the responsible one for once. It's a hero's duty!"

"Well that's...nice of you." Matthew paused in thought. He really didn't have anything better to do that night. "Yeah, I think I'll be there. It should be fun, eh?"

"Yeah! And you can invite Mozart too! I'll make sure y'all don't get too drunk."

"Mozart, Al? Really?"

"Haha yeah, he's totally like Mozart!"

"...ok then. Well I'm sure he'd appreciate the comparison. He can't come tonight, his boss gave him a bunch of paperwork."

"Oh that sucks, dude. Well, you can get as drunk as you want, then! Well, actually, not _really_ drunk, I promised I'd be responsible for everyone."

"Not like I'd ever get as drunk as you anyway," Matthew retorted. "Dare I ask why you're being the responsible one for once?"

"It's part of my gift for Arthur. Besides, the rest of the present will be better if I'm sober!"

"...Goodbye, Alfred."

"Haha yeah, tonight should be fun. Unless Artie gets too drunk, then he gets all sad and doesn't let me-"

"I'm hanging up now, Alfred."

OOO

Matthew sighed to himself as he took another shot from the large tray on the table. Coming here was a total waste of time. Most of Alfred and Arthur's guests were either dancing drunkenly or attempting to socialize in little groups. He'd been stepped on three times, forgotten four, and his brother was too busy making out with Arthur to give him the time of day. He took another shot.

It seemed the whole point of this gathering was to get as drunk as possible. And most of the guests were succeeding. So much for Alfred's plans. He took another shot and wandered over to the bar, narrowly avoiding a gleefully tipsy Feliciano followed by a mostly-sober Ludwig, to try to order a drink more suited to his tastes. If he could get the bartender's attention, that is.

OOO

When Roderich finally looked up from the last of his papers, he was surprised at how late it was. Though it was much later than he usually stayed awake, he wasn't as tired as he thought he should be. Maybe he could play through a few etudes before bed. Halfway across the room to his piano, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The small screen glowed _Matthew Williams_ up at him.

"Hello, Matthew?"

"Hey! Roddy!" A loud voice replied, sounding almost relived.

"Wha-who is this? Alfred?"

"Yeah. Hey. Umm..."

"What's going on? Why do you have Matthew's phone?" He was starting to get concerned, and it was hard to hear Alfred over whatever noise was happening in the background.

"I had this party tonight, I totally invited you but Mattie said you were busy. Matthew, he's...well...he's actually completely plastered, dude. I know it's late, but are you busy? Most everyone's about to go home, but I gotta...I don't know, console Arthur, or something. He's had way too much. Well, everyone did, really. I'm the soberest one here, I'm kind of in charge, but I don't think I can take care of both of them."

"...I'll be there in five minutes," Roderich found himself saying.

"Thanks, dude! You're a lifesaver!"

Four and a half minutes later, Roderich walked up to the American's table in the bar.

"Oh dude! Thank God you're here!"

"Where's Matthew? Is he ok?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine. Wasted, but fine."

"Oi! 'Merica! More shots!" Arthur yelled from across the bar.

"I think you've had enough, babe."

"You dunno me! I can hold my lock-lick...liquor...my liquor better than...better than him!" he pointed sloppily at Ivan, who hadn't been invited but showed up anyway, and was looking at Arthur hopefully as if a drinking competition would arise.

"Yeah, I don't think so. I'll be back in a moment, darlin', try not to do anything stupid. Stupid_er_." He motioned for Roderich to follow him. "He was convinced he was a pirate about twenty minutes ago. Entertaining, and really hot, actually, but he got super angry with Antonio and then started crying about religion."

Roderich only nodded and kept following Alfred to the back corner of the bar where Matthew was sitting, facing the wall, staring darkly at the table.

"Is he always like this when he's drunk?"

"I uh...I don't know, he doesn't ever really drink much."

The Canadian picked up his glass and looked intently into it as if it held the answers to all the world's mysteries. Then he suddenly began giggling uncontrollably.

"Hey! Mattie! Look who's here!"

"Matthew?" he said tentatively and Matthew turned his unfocused gaze upon him.

"Rod'rich?" he slurred. "Hey~! I missed you~! Th-this song. This song is _awesome!_"

"Matthew, there's no music playing." But the Canadian had started happily humming along with whatever music he was hearing in his head.

"Let's go, we're leaving." Roderich tried.

"B-but...they're Canadian!"

"Who?"

"Aw, shit, dude, don't ask him that!"

Matthew suddenly looked as if he were about to cry.

"Mattie, it's ok, he-"

"I'm Can...Cana...Canadia! I'm Canadia~! I thought you'd remember me!"

"Matthew, I...of course I remember you?"

"No one remembers me." He mumbled quietly, looking back down into the corner.

"I assure you I do. I promise."

"...ok."

"Well played dude."

"Er...thanks?" Matthew started humming again. "Come on."

"Dijon ketchups."

"What?"

"_If I had a million dollars_!" Matthew sang.

"Oh. Ok then. Come along, Matthew."

"Thanks, dude!" Alfred called after them.

"_If I had a million dollars, if I had a million dollars! Hmmhmmhmmm furniture for your house, maybe a nice Chesterfield or an Ottoman_." Matthew sang as he followed Roderich out of the bar. It appeared he was singing two parts to himself, slightly turning back and forth to portray both people, arms flailing sloppily as he gestured along.

"_If I had a million dollars, I'd build a tree fort in our yard. Hmmmhmmhmmmm million dollars, you could help it wouldn't be that hard,_"after finishing what was presumably the chorus, it seemed as if he was having an intense conversation with himself, mumbling and slurring through a dialogue. He started laughing so hard when he said something about bacon that he started stumbling, so Roderich put an arm around Matthew's shoulders to keep him steady.

"Oooooh! Hugs!" Matthew threw his arms around Roderich, leaning heavily against him. "I never get hugs. People...people think I don' like 'em! But I~ do! Hugs are...are like...hugs!"

Roderich stared a moment, trying to comprehend the intoxicated Canadian's train of thought. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Roderich decided to play along. "...yes, Matthew. Hugs are hugs," he said, slightly amused.

"'xactly!"

Matthew drunk was a lot tamer than Gilbert drunk, and while they both got louder, Matthew was merely at a normal volume. He was also considerably less destructive, but more clumsy. And he definitely didn't mind how affectionate Matthew was being, even though he was concerned things might be moving too quickly. He could always blame it on the alcohol if Matthew got upset with their PDA.

"_If I had a million dollars, if I had a million dollars. Well I'd buy you a green dress, but not a real __green dress, that's cruel_." Matthew sang, then paused, an adorably confused look crossing his features. "And. And you're a guy! You won't wear a green dress. 'less you're Poland. Hey! Maybe he wants a...a green dress."

"...maybe. Though I think he likes pink better." Yes. He was most _definitely _amused.

"Pink! Hahaha right! He... he _totally_ likes pink!" Matthew exclaimed before picking the song back up. "_hmmhmmhmmhmmmm a Picasso or a Garfunkel. If I had a million-a..._a million...oh! I get it! Garfunkel! Ha!" What he got, Roderich didn't know, but Matthew kept singing before he could question it. "_And if I had a million dollars, I'd buy your love,"_

Matthew turned to Roderich seriously, "but you can't...can't _buy _love, Rod'rich. I would...if I could, you know? For yours I-I would save up..._all _of my money!" he threw an arm out for emphasis, almost hitting the frame of Roderich's front door.

Was Matthew directing that at him or the world in general? Roderich shook his head slightly. Best not get his hopes up. "...I see. Well, here we are. I suppose you can sleep on my couch." He led Matthew into his living room where the Canadian flopped on the couch happily.

"It's squishy!"

"Yes. I'll be right back. Don't move." He got a few things from a cupboard across the room and turned back around to see Matthew attempting to sit perfectly still, tilting a bit to the left.

"I didn't move!"

"Alright. Here's a blanket and a pillow, would you care for any water or anything?"

"Will you play for me?" He gestured in the general direction of Roderich's piano.

"It's late."

"Please~!" Roderich couldn't resist Matthew's pleading eyes.

"I suppose I could play something."

"Yay!"

He walked over to the piano and softly played through a few measures of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata since Matthew seemed to like it so much the first time, ending with a gentle upward cascading arpeggio.

"That was sooooo pretty!" Matthew gushed when Roderich withdrew his hands.

"Thank you. We should get some sleep now, you'll need it no doubt."

"Really, really pretty... Like you. You're pretty."

"Ah..."

"I like you, Roderich."

"I like you too." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"No, I mean I-" he yawned, "I _really _like you."

"...I really like you too, Matthew," he wondered where exactly this was going. Matthew nuzzled his face into the edge of the pillow, blindly grasping for the blanket, but gave up after a moment and tucked his hands under the pillow, closing his eyes.

"In fact, I...I think...maybe...I..." but whatever Matthew was going to say about what he thought, Roderich wouldn't know, as the Canadian fell asleep.

Roderich pulled the blanket up over him and after a moment of hesitation, he dropped a light kiss to Matthew's forehead.

OOO

Despite having been up much later than normal, Roderich found himself awake earlier than he would like. With a soft 'mmmph' he rolled over in his bed. The sky was grey through the crack in his curtains; it was on days like this he'd like to stay in the warmth of his blankets and pillows until at least nine-thirty, then venture out of his bedroom to play along with whatever mood the impending weather had set.

He slid on his glasses and blinked at the clock on his nightstand. 8:17. He'd be damned if he was getting out of his bed before nine. He sat in silence, staring at the clock as the minutes ticked by, a few arias playing in his mind. When it reached nine, he sighed and stretched lightly as he crawled out of the bed, carefully pulling the blankets back up and fluffing the pillows.

He looked into his living room to see Matthew, sound asleep. All of the memories of Gilbert's hangovers flooded back to him. He hoped Matthew was more pleasant about it. He went back into his room to brush his teeth and take a shower before the storm hit.

Roderich was just finishing up his morning routine when he heard a quiet groan of 'maple leaf' come from the direction of his kitchen. With a final poke to his hair, he walked into see Matthew standing there in the dark, peering into a cupboard.

"Matthew?"

He made a startled noise and turned around quickly. "Ow," he raised a hand to rub at his temple. "Um...'morning."

"Good morning. Almost afternoon."

"Maple. I'm sorry," Matthew mumbled back, voice groggy.

"It's quite alright. What are you looking for?"

"I...I was going to make you pancakes. But I can't find the milk."

"...Well that's because it would be in the refrigerator."

"Oh. Right," he turned around again, wincing at the sudden movement and squinted into the fridge before shutting it from the bright light. "Umm..."

"Here. What you need is some water." Roderich filled a tall glass and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he gulped down about half of it.

"I'll make some breakfast. You can use my shower, it'll make you feel better. Alfred said you don't really get drunk."

"Yeah, I d-...Alfred said?"

"I'll explain later when your head doesn't hurt."

"Oh. I want to make you breakfast though. I'm really really sorry, I-"

"You can make pancakes next time, alright?" Roderich suggested. He hoped there'd be a next time, hopefully with neither of them intoxicated. It was a bit of a presumptuous statement, but it seemed to calm Matthew down.

"Ok," the Canadian managed a small smile.

"Towels are under the sink, as well as some new toothbrushes and anything else you'll need, and I'll put some clothes by the door that you can borrow."

"Thanks," he blushed and Roderich led him to his bathroom.

He put a folded pair of pants and a plain shirt on the chair by the door as he heard the water turn on. Walking back to the kitchen, Roderich debated what breakfast would be best to make and if Matthew would like it, and whether or not to go outside to pick some flowers to put on the table before it started raining. Were flowers appropriately romantic, or would it be like he was assuming too much? Or were they too old fashioned?

Romance wasn't his forte. In fact, it wasn't even his mezzoforte. Was that even the proper terminology? He didn't know. Idioms were also not his forte.

He decided to make chocolate croissants; pastries were always a safe choice.

A short while later, Matthew emerged from the shower a few moments after the storm started, and Roderich couldn't tell if the pink in his cheeks was flushed from the hot water or from embarrassment.

"Better?" the Austrian motioned for Matthew to sit at the table next to a small vase of flowers.

"Yes. Thank you." Matthew's cheeks got redder. "Um...what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?" This could be a very good thing or a very bad thing, Roderich decided, depending on what opinion Matthew got out of it all.

A flash of panic crossed his features "I-I remember going to the bar...And being alone, getting stepped on, drinking...Maple, I drank too much. And...and then Alfred was talking to me...about..._something. _Oh! And then you came..."

"That's it?"

"Remind me?" He asked sheepishly. "I vaguely remember..."

Roderich cleared his throat. "Well, you were quite enthralled with your glass and you got very emotional when you thought I forgot who you were."

"Oh maple. I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Roderich paused. "Then you started singing."

"Oh god. Shit." Roderich blinked at the sudden profanity. "What'd I sing?"

"Ah...something about a million dollars?"

"Ha."

"And then we...um..."

"We what? What happened? What did I do?" Matthew panicked.

"We hugged." Roderich felt himself turning pink. Verdammt.

"...hugged."

"Yes, I apologize, I shouldn't have let it happen while you weren't in your right state of mind."

"Roderich. It's ok. U-unless you don't want to hug me? I'm sorry I was so awful last night. I-I can leave if you want."

"No, no, I _do _want to hug you, I just didn't know if you'd be ok with it, especially since you were so intoxicated, and I-"

"Roderich," Matthew interrupted again, "We've kissed...once...but we did. We've reached that point. Hugs are fine. They're..." Matthew shook his head, "they're better than fine. You can hold my hand or hug me o-or anything. Whenever you want to."

"I...I'd like that."

"Um...preferably more often than not."

"That can be arranged."

"Good." Matthew smiled. "Anything else I did?"

"Well you wanted me to play."

"Oh yeah I did, didn't I? Did I say anything?"

"Ah...well...you said I was pretty." Roderich felt his face flush again.

"Oh. Well. Um." Matthew's blush deepened. "I meant did I say anything stupid?"

"Well...not _stupid_ I suppose...just..." he sighed.

Matthew's eyes widened and his nervous smile vanished. "What did I say? Roderich, what did I say?"

"You...you said you'd buy my love if it were possible, not just in the song, and that you liked me, really liked me, and you were saying something else but you fell asleep." He blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Oh maple." Matthew's voice was nearing a whisper as he looked incredibly frightened. "Maple leaf. Maple, maple, maple, shit! I'm s-sorry, I am _so _sorry, I...maple..." he trailed off at an almost inaudible volume.

"That's alright. I understand. Of course you didn't mean it."

"Right. Yeah... I mean no. No. I-I do. I just...maple." He put his face in both of his hands next to his empty plate.

"You...do?"

"Yeah I...Well, I just..."

"...why?" he said in a disbelieving tone.

"Well you...I...maple. I can explain? O-or I should just leave? You sound disappointed," he ended in a mumble.

"You're not leaving in this weather." Roderich swept one hand towards the window now showing lightning and a heavy rainfall.

"Oh."

"Let's go to the couch, it's more comfortable. You can explain if you wish, and I can as well. I'm not disappointed. Far from it, in fact, I just don't completely understand."

"Ok."

Roderich waited for Matthew to sit first, and when the Austrian took the cushion next to him instead of the third, the Canadian looked somewhat relieved. They sat for a moment in silence, Matthew looking more and more nervous, the feelings mirrored in Roderich's head.

"Would you like me to go first?" the Austrian suggested, wanting Matthew to calm down.

"N-no. I...I'll talk myself out of it if you do."

Roderich nodded and waited as patiently as he could, watching Matthew clearly struggle to find the words he wanted. After a moment's hesitation, he took Matthew's hand in his and the Canadian started talking.

"Remember when I said that...you're your music, a-and it makes sense?" He gave a single nod. "Well...I think maybe you think you're hiding your emotions, and it makes you feel safe, but to me...I can just see it, you know? Hear them and feel them." He looked to Roderich as if for confirmation.

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow."

Matthew sighed and bit his lip. "You can play the same piece and have it sound completely different. Not everyone can notice the difference, but it's there. Your emotions come out when you play."

"I...I suppose they do. But I didn't think anyone noticed. Especially because for such a long time no one could ever see them, and everyone else just blatantly expresses themselves. I...I don't know if I could do that."

Matthew nodded. "Maybe that's why a lot of people think you're standoffish."

"A lot of? Not you?" Roderich asked curiously.

"No." Matthew replied, face portraying pure honesty. "I know there had to be a reason for it. For your walls and your complicated feelings and why you try to hide them so cleverly."

"And you think you can see past my walls then?"

"Sometimes. Not at first, but once I heard your music I thought I could figure it out. It's easier when you're not trying so hard to keep everyone and everything out. Like I noticed when you were shocked that I actually knew about classical music. When you hated the art before you said anything. How you wanted the chocolate ice cream," he blushed before continuing quietly, "when you were nervous about kissing me."

"And now?"

"N-now I'm too nervous to be entirely sure, eh?" He gave a weak laugh. Roderich's thumb started to slowly trace over the back of Matthew's hand subconsciously. "Al thinks my perceptiveness is creepy. But he's pretty easy to read."

"No it's...it's brilliant. A bit unnerving perhaps, but brilliant. I'm not used to people...understanding."

"And I know I don't know everything, but that's ok. I want to know, only if you want to tell me, but I know you must have reasons for keeping your emotions so safe. And I...I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you so fast because even if it was unintentional, you let me in."

Roderich took a moment to absorb it all. Matthew was _in love_ with him. He hadn't thought it to be possible, hadn't dreamed that something so wonderful could happen so fast. But did he, _could _he, feel the same way in return? Was it even possible to love again?

"You have such spirit, Matthew," he said finally. "It's beautiful to see when you show yourself. I don't really see how you love me. But I suppose there are a lot of things that I don't understand. I...I'm sorry but I can't say it back yet, though it makes me very happy, and I'd like to explain, if that's alright?"

Matthew nodded.

"I'm not sure if I'm capable of love," Roderich began quietly.

"Why?" The question wasn't accusing or disappointed. It was merely curious and interested and proof Matthew was the perfect listener.

Roderich sighed, mentally preparing himself to tell his sides of stories no one had heard before and put his arm around Matthew's shoulders. The Canadian leaned against him comfortably and Roderich was pleased.

"I haven't exactly had a good relationship. Elizaveta and Gilbert were the only ones to ever..." he paused a moment. "Well. I'll start at the beginning. I sort of had a relationship with Gilbert. It was more of a fling, I suppose, and it was brief. He was...experienced and I...well, I wasn't. And it was fun while it lasted, but it got too intense too fast. I loved him but I thought more of it than he did. It just...didn't work out between us and it ended rather badly.

And with Elizaveta, it was more of a relationship of convenience. Purely political, our bosses' idea. We tried romance, well, she tried harder I suppose. But I've never been interested in women and she knew that. She had something going on with Gilbert at that point anyway. Maybe I gave up too quickly but I knew I wouldn't be happy with her. We were better as friends. She tried though. She initiated everything and we would pretend, but neither of us were happy with it. And then she got frustrated. Well, we both were frustrated, and we started arguing. We were both more relieved than sad when Austria-Hungary split. We haven't talked much since.

And so I became afraid to love because I didn't think I'd be able to find the happiness we were supposed to have had with anyone. I didn't think anyone could have that with me. I hid myself further in my music and closed myself off from everyone. But recently I'd been trying to...I don't know...rekindle any acquaintances or friendships I may have had, or start ones with someone...and you were the only one to be, well, anything. And it's become so much more than just acquaintances and friends and I'm so glad it was you," he ended, surprised at the emotions showing in his voice. "And I'm still afraid. Of rejection or you leaving or just..." he swallowed an unfamiliar lump in his throat.

"Roderich," Matthew mumbled quietly, "I love you. And I can wait."

"May I kiss you?" he asked, equally as quietly.

"Roderich, you don't have to ask to kiss me," Matthew murmured, turning his head to press his lips to the corner of Roderich's mouth.

Roderich let one hand come to rest on Matthew's cheek, the other sliding down onto his back, and turned to give him a proper kiss. Happy he wasn't met with resistance, he deepened the kiss and was surprised when Matthew eagerly responded.

He leaned back for a brief moment to see Matthew's face, pleasantly flushed and happy, before capturing his lips once more. Matthew's arms flung around him as his tongue traced the Canadian's lower lip.

OOO

Matthew had made pancakes the next morning.

He and Roderich had been inseparable for the rest of the day. Just thinking back on it as he sat alone in his little office brought a blush to his cheeks. There had been soft, lazy kisses that made his heart ache with love. There had been wonderful, passionate kisses that made his blood race. And when Roderich finally had the strength to pull away a second time, both of them slightly panting and staring into each other's unfocused eyes, Roderich held out his hand and Matthew shyly took it, following him into his bedroom.

They hadn't gone much further, just a delicious rubbing of hips that turned into desperate grinding. And Matthew blushed not in embarrassment, but because he craved more. He craved so much more.

He wondered if Roderich was aware of how absolutely exquisite he was. Aware of how he managed to have a touch that was so gentle and yet so possessive. Aware of his powerful gaze that made Matthew practically melt, or aware of the soft moans that escaped him during their moments of intimacy that sounded more beautiful than any piece of music Matthew had heard.

After being lost in his thoughts for a brief while longer, he glanced up at his clock and saw that it was approaching five. He and Roderich were meeting for an early dinner and then going back to the Austrian's house so Matthew could hear a new piece Roderich was working on.

Matthew had picked a restaurant a mere two blocks from the Austrian's office. He got there first, knowing Roderich should be finishing up soon. He requested a quieter booth near the back and the waitress was just bringing two glasses of water when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Matthew, sorry I'm a bit late, but I'm leaving my office right now," Roderich spoke quickly.

"No rush, I only just got here."

"Alright," he could hear the slight smile in Roderich's voice. "See you in two minutes."

Matthew smiled as he took a sip of his water and leaned back in the booth. Maybe tonight he and Roderich could progress things a little further. His thoughts were cut short by a loud horn outside.

An immediately following screeching of tires caused Matthew's heart to stop as he knew, he _knew_ something had happened to Roderich. As if in a daze, he leapt up from the table and ran outside, not noticing his glass falling over, not noticing the people he pushed out of the way, not noticing the policeman trying to hold the small crowd back.

He froze at the sight. Next to a car that's front end was stuck in a lamp post was Roderich, sprawled out on the pavement, unconscious.

"Roderich!" he tried to call but his voice caught in his throat. He pushed the remaining people out of his way and fell to his knees by Roderich's side. He choked back a sob as his shaking fingers gently brushed the hair out of Roderich's face.

"Sir, we're going to need you to-"

"No," he interrupted, managing a tone with conviction.

He didn't hear the sirens of the ambulance rushing up. He didn't hear the voices of the crowd or the medics. He didn't feel the hands on his shoulders trying to pull him away. He didn't see the blood making an increasingly large stain on the black pavement. All he felt were Roderich's, _his_ Roderich's fingers growing slowly colder in his grasp.


End file.
